Almost unique among orchestras, the Vienna Philharmonic has no permanent conductor, or chief conductor. Instead, they have a string of guests – and one of the most frequent of those guests is the Italian maestro Riccardo Muti. It was Mr. Muti who stood before the Vienna Philharmonic in three concerts at Carnegie Hall: Friday night, Saturday night, and Sunday afternoon.

Mr. Muti was at the center of something like a scandal, when he left La Scala – the opera in Milan – last April. Not often can classical music make worldwide news like this. But he has not exactly been idle, and never will be. His association with the Vienna Philharmonic seems ever tighter. He led them quite a bit in Salzburg last summer, and on a Japanese tour in November, and – this is crucial – on January 27, 2006, again in Salzburg.

What was the big deal on January 27? Why, the 250th anniversary of Mozart’s birth, don’t you know.

On Friday night, Mr. Muti did not conduct Mozart – that was on Saturday night, when the Philharmonic played the “Sinfonia concertante” in E flat, using a solo violinist and violist from the orchestra. That was also on Sunday afternoon, when they played the “Haffner” Symphony. Other composers on Saturday night were Schubert and Richard Strauss; and on Sunday afternoon Mr. Muti added Bartok, Ravel, and Falla.

The opening program – Friday’s – consisted of only two works: Hindemith’s “Nobilissima visione” Suite and Schubert’s Symphony No. 9 in C, the “Great” (called that to distinguish it from a smaller, earlier C-major effort).

Paul Hindemith has not exactly disappeared from our concert stages, but he is less prominent than he used to be. We are not even treated very often to his outstanding orchestral work, “Mathis der Maler.” “Nobilissima visione,” written in 1938, is a ballet, depicting the life of St. Francis of Assisi. Hindemith’s suite is in three movements, making up a clear and comprehensible orchestral work.

Mr. Muti conducted it decently, if not completely convincingly.The suite began with a terrible entrance, not usually a good sign, and, as the music continued, the orchestra was not always a model of precision. Under Mr. Muti, the first movement was not as supple or as yearning as it might have been. But the playing at the end of the last movement – a passacaglia – was admirably unified, and, in fact, noble. (Think of the work’s title.)

As always from the Vienna Philharmonic, you got an extraordinary sound – rich, warm, beautiful. The Vienna Philharmonic plus the acoustics of Carnegie Hall equals one heck of an aural bath.

The Schubert “Great,” of course, is played very frequently, and New York has had at least one great perform ance of it this season: that of Daniel Barenboim with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, in November. Also, the Juilliard orchestra – on the occasion of the school’s centennial – played it competently, in October.

And the Vienna Philharmonic? It has a justly famous brass section, but the symphony’s horn opening was far from perfect: The onset was poor, and the notes were played matter-of-factly, almost as if boredom ruled. Some flubbing in the horns later in the symphony would be most unlike this orchestra.

Throughout the first movement, Mr. Muti was sensible, in tempo, dynamics, and phrasing. Nice about the second movement was its chorale-like Fmajor melody, hushed, almost angelic. And the violins played their pizzicatos together – which I classify as a minor miracle. The cellos played transportingly over those pizzicatos. Mr. Muti was expansive here, and almost too much so (but not quite).

In the third movement – a scherzo – the violins played with welcome freedom, although the trio – the trio section of the scherzo – was somewhat disappointing: Mr. Muti might have afforded it more swagger, more panache, more something. More musicality, certainly.

Did the finale begin with the appropriate excitement? Yes, and the playing thereafter was unobjectionable. And how about those repeated, insistent Cs at the end of the symphony? Were they thrilling, throttling? No. All right, then were they at least stirring, affirming? No – the moment seemed to have no effect on Mr. Muti. He was just waving along, as he’s wont to do.

Performed really well, Schubert’s Ninth is like a runaway freight train – a glorious train – inexorable, irresistible, overpowering. In Mr. Muti’s hands, the symphony lacked that character, and was without much character altogether. There was little to distinguish it. This was not a bad performance, by any means – but neither was it good, neither did it stick to your ribs. It was, another day, another Schubert “Great.”

The orchestra played one encore, a long waltz by a little-known Strauss brother: Josef. In remarks to the audience, Mr. Muti said that this waltz – “Spharenklange” – captured the “melancholy” of Vienna. Have you ever associated that quality with that city? In any case, it would be natural to report that these Viennese played that waltz as if they owned it. This is the Vienna Philharmonic,after all, and they have something like a patent on the Strauss waltzes (whoever the Strauss happens to be – even Richard, no relation to the waltz-mad family).

Well, Josef’s waltz was only so-so, missing the charm, grace, and loveliness you would expect. Sad to report, but true.

***

Over at the New York Philharmonic, the big news last week was that the scheduled conductor had to withdraw – that was Christoph von Dohnanyi, the veteran German maestro. He fell ill, but is expected to conduct the Philharmonic this week. (The next subscription series starts Thursday night.)

Taking Mr. Dohnanyi’s place was a young French conductor, Ludovic Morlot. Trained as a violinist, he is an assistant conductor at the Boston Symphony Orchestra. (And speaking of conductors and their troubles: BSO chief James Levine has had to cancel an appearance with that orchestra in Carnegie Hall tonight. Last Wednesday, he had a fall onstage in Boston and needs to rest. Replacing him will be the German conductor Marek Janowski.) On Thursday night, Mr. Morlot did a fine job, and not just for a slightly green sub.

The program began with a work by Elliott Carter, “Allegro scorrevole,” written in 1996, when the composer was just a pup of 88. The Philharmonic is highlighting the music of Mr. Carter this season, as every presenting organization – everywhere – seems to do. “Allegro scorrevole” – which means, approximately,”Fast and Flowing” – is a bit of a scherzo, intended to suggest a bubble. Mr. Carter has said that “Allegro scorrevole” is “based on the bubble as a symbol of life’s fragility.”

His piece sounds like its title, and one can – if one wants – think of that bubble, traveling through the air. The work is busy, fluttery, with lots of sameness (to the ear unattuned to Carterian subtleties and gradations). At the end, the bubble bursts, but not in a dramatic way – in a light, shrugging, evanescent way. Quite nice.

On Thursday night, Mr. Morlot and the orchestra performed the piece ably, but I wager they did better in subsequent concerts. In his solo work, concertmaster Glenn Dicterow was strong and sweet, a happy combination for a violinist (and others). At the end, the composer came out, grinning and waving appreciatively.

Next up was the Symphony No. 4 of Schumann, which the late conductor Herbert von Karajan once confided was his favorite symphony. It is a surprising choice, but not so shocking. The work is utterly Schumannesque, warm-hearted, generous, songful. Mr. Morlot et al. brought out those qualities, although this was not the most polished performance in history. (Perhaps they gained some polish in those subsequent concerts.)

One question to have asked was, Would the Philharmonic play for Ludovic Morlot? In the bad old days, the Philharmonic simply wouldn’t play for certain guest conductors – or even their own – sabotaging the concert. Or so was the reputation. Well, the orchestra seemed to play willingly for the young Frenchman.

He did not impose some personal vision on the Schumann Fourth, settling for solid, sane conducting. The first movement had a necessary verve. The second – the Romance – was a little slow for its own good, and the orchestra did not play the movement’s final chords together, at all. The Scherzo was satisfactory, and so was the finale – although those last pages, coursing along in D major, can be much more exciting and gratifying.

After intermission, the orchestra offered another work of the canonical repertory: Brahms’s Violin Concerto, with Frank Peter Zimmermann as soloist. His reputation is big, and on Thursday night he did not quite live up to it. To continue my theme, one had the impression that he could do better, and would, in later performances.

Mr. Zimmermann came out in the black sort-of Mao suit that musicians favor these days, and made an admirable sound: beautiful, with an easy plangency. His playing featured a lot of sliding around – portamento – and this was unfortunate. Mr. Zimmermann harmed himself by excess. Also, he had intonation trouble throughout the concerto, fighting flatness, often losing. But he obviously knows the contours of this work, and did not disguise its greatness.

Best about the first movement was its cadenza: commanding, with special attention to dynamics, which were subtle and well calibrated. In the slow movement, oboist Sherry Sylars sang really, really beautifully. This was maybe the best playing of the night, from anybody. When the violinist came in, he souped up that same melody, intolerably. But he righted himself thereafter.

The last movement, the orchestra began thrillingly, and Mr. Zimmermann was up to par too. Soloist and conductor engaged in one absurd rhythmic hesitation, but were otherwise sound.

I might mention that Mr. Zimmermann’s bio informs us that he uses a Stradivarius once owned by Fritz Kreisler. Can he play Kreisler’s music on that thing, Mr. Zimmermann? Let’s hope so. Sliding is permitted – but, as in Brahms, not too much.